The Making of the Mask
by Rashadian
Summary: Part One of The Batgirl Saga. Barbara Gordon has decided that Gotham City isn't going to clean itself up, and two isn't enough for the job.
1. Prolouge

Gotham City was not a nice All-American city. It was full of alleys that were dark even in the middle of the day and schools who fought to keep their students coming. Gotham City High School held one of the highest drop-out rates in the country. Teens that could leave did. Most went to out-of-state colleges, paying higher tuition to escape their haunted youths. Newly-weds left as well, not wanting to start their families in such a dark city.

Gotham had a gang problem; if, indeed, it could be called as such. The city had simply become territory to be won and lost. Gotham was in the middle of a civil war, and the high school at the heart of the city was at the center of it all.

The Red Dragons and The Storm Clouds. They were constantly at each others throats, literally. The two gangs had recruited nearly every male teen in the city, and many of the females as well. And all the conflict, the hatred, and the violence boiled over at the school. There was a line in the cafeteria that was never crossed, and certain hallways were never passed by certain students, much less entered. If one happened to have a class in such a hallway, the schedule was quickly and quietly changed. No objections to such changes were ever made.

Out of this darkness, one man willing to play the role of the hero rose. Through the years, he acquired an accomplice, a sidekick, as well. Using the philosophy "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," the two struck up an alliance, albeit a reluctant one, with Gotham's Commissioner of Police, James Gordon.

Gordon was a good man in a department full of corruption. The reach of the two gangs both necessitated and allowed for them to pay off many of Gordon's men, leaving many "blind eyes" on both his pay roll and the streets. His alliance with the so-called "dynamic duo" allowed for gang members to be apprehended, and corrupt cops to be discovered.

The commissioner's war on crime was for more than his city. It was his personal war, his way of exacting revenge by ensuring that what happened to him would never again happen to someone else. His wife, the mother of his child, had been killed by gang members. He didn't know, or care, which gang they were a part of. All he cared about was putting those responsible to justice, and to him, those responsible were anyone in anyway affiliated with the city's gang problem.

He knew that his all-consuming war on crime was not easy or fair for his daughter Barbara. But he also knew it was not easy or fair for her to have her mother taken so brutally from her at such a young age. He knew she got a hard time at school because of who her father was, and found some relief in knowing she could fight back; she had been taking self-defense lessons, from classes, private instructors, and he, himself, since she entered the fifth grade.

Knowing she had enemies at school, when she entered high school, he had offered to, wanted to send her to a boarding school, maybe even somewhere out of the state or country, but she had firmly refused. He worried for her, but he was grateful.

Barbara Gordon was, in every way but her looks, her father's daughter. She had inherited his love of justice and honor, his loyalty and courage, and, regrettably, his quick temper as well. But she also had her mother's intelligence and, when she was not angry, her ability to see things from every point of view. These traits helped her form friendships within both gangs and though they were not close friendships, they helped.

However, there were also members of both gangs who resented the fact that she had not picked a side and made it very clear she never would. Unfortunately, these outnumbered the kinder ones, so there were very few she could openly associate with, and fewer she could really trust.

But such was the way of life in Gotham City. No one outside of the gang could be trusted, and no one inside the gang could be trusted. No one knew who the next traitor, or the next Dark Knight, may be.

End Prologue

Hey Everyone! Thanks for reading!  This actually turned out darker than I wanted it to, but I'm guessing there's a reason. So, now I shamelessly beg for reviews. Tell me what I'm doing (right or wrong)! Please! See you in a few days! Oh, and does anyone have a good suggestion for a gang name? "The Storm Clouds" seems kind of weak. Let me know!


	2. I Hate Thursdays

The Making of the Mask, Chapter One

Barbara Gordon had nothing to do. She was stuck in a mind-numbingly boring class with no work she could do, and she couldn't listen to music because she had to pretend she was listening to some lecture the teacher was giving. So, she racked her brain for a few minutes (while looking like she was deep in thought over whatever it was the teacher was droning on about), and had a flash of brilliance.

She pulled out a sheet of paper and began to make a list. More specifically, she began to make a list of reasons why she was so irritated with school, Gotham, and her life in general.

It began, of course, with the class she was currently sitting in. _History_, she wrote, _should be interesting. It's not just about the past; it's about the present and the future_. _So much of this could be applied to current events-we could have some great discussions in here-but we don't._

She paused for a moment, considering pros and cons, before adding the next item.

_Batman_. Yes, she decided, Batman irritated her. _Yes, he's working with the police now, but he caused Dad a lot of extra work when he first started. Even now he's not completely sure about him. He should have just let Dad do his job. Well, I guess he has done a lot to help, but I can't help thinking he should have warned somebody first_.

_Robin's outfit. That thing could stop traffic. As it is, I have no idea why he has street cred wearing that thing. And anyone he helps capture should feel ashamed of themselves. _

Her friend Rich leaned over to see what she was writing. He grinned as he read over her list, but she was sure she saw him wince a few times, and she mentally added that to her list. He had begun acting strangely a few months ago, and she couldn't shake the feeling he was hiding something from her and she was losing her childhood friend.

The history classroom was set up with an aisle down the center, and the rows on either side facing in towards it. The students who were members of the Red Dragons sat on one side, Storm Clouds sat on the other. The eight seats closest to the front of the room were where the "neutrals" sat.

_Speaking of annoyances_, she thought, looking up. Across from her sat Kyle Allen. He considered himself a neutral, and theoretically he was, but he was only neutral because he considered himself above working with those in gangs, unless it was for a profit. He would join up with either of them at any given time, and do jobs for them, but only when it benefited him. He was, in every definition of the word, a mercenary, a privateer. Babs couldn't help comparing him to Rhett Butler, except Kyle had no redeeming qualities at all.

Unlike Kyle, Babs had refused to join a gang in part because she knew it would hurt her father, and in part because she did not want to become like the gang kids she saw arrested. But she had also refused because of her mother. Years ago, she had been killed. Babs didn't know how or why; all her father would tell her was that she had been killed by gang members. He didn't know which gang. She didn't want to join those who killed her mother, and she certainly did not want to help kill other people's mothers.

One of her best friends, Rich Grayson, was sitting next to her. She wasn't really sure why he hadn't joined the gang, or what had happened to his parents. All she really knew about his past was that he had become Bruce Wayne's ward when he was about six. He never mentioned why, and she didn't press the matter, although she was curious. He was a junior like her, but he was a few years younger. She figured he had skipped a grade or two, but was curious as to when. It didn't seem like the kind of thing someone would do to someone whose parents had just died, but he didn't mention it, so neither did she.

Babs came out of her reverie when she noticed the teacher writing the night's assignment on the board, more questions out of the textbook. The lecture always only covered whatever was in the chapter, so she never bothered paying attention in class anymore.

"So, we're going to meet up with-Babs, are you listening to me?"

Rich leaned over and snapped his fingers a few times in front of his friends face.

"Huh, what?"

"Are you listening to me?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh, no, sorry. I think I tuned you out with everyone else. Why, did I miss something entertaining?" her voice was laced with the sarcasm that made her so well liked by so many at Gotham City High School.

The younger boy laughed, "No, I just wanted to make sure we were still set for studying with Vic tonight."

Barbara shuddered. "Yep," she replied, wincing. "We shall divide, and we shall conquer. I hope."

"Let all Pre-Calculus books beware!" Rich cried, laughing. "I'll see you then!" he called, leaving as the bell rang.

Babs grabbed her own bag and began to head towards the door as Kyle sidled up next to her.

"Ready for Pre-Calc?" he asked, his voice as smooth and sweet as honey, _or cough medicine,_ she thought irritably.

"No," she replied, rather bluntly, without even glancing at him, this proved to be a rather impressive feat, due to the fact he had positioned himself right next to her, directly in her line of vision.

He clucked his tongue softly and shook his head. "That's a shame. You're such a great student and all, I'm sure it'll just break poor Mr. Robinson's heart to know you aren't putting the same effort into his class hat you are in everybody else's."

Babs rolled her eyes and pushed past him as they finally made it out the doorway before sighing and responding to Kyle's heavily sarcastic comment.

"We go through this _every day_, Allen. The class itself, as in learning about math, I am prepared for and have no problem with. What I'm _not_ prepared for is spending another hour and a half in a room with both you and certain others."

"Ah," Kyle said, with a tone of understanding. "You finally broke it off with your lover boy. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm afraid my heart is already taken. I could only wait so long, you know."

"Kyle," she began to cut him off, a warning clear in her voice.

"Don't worry though," he continued in a comforting tone of voice, completely ignoring her interruption. He patted her shoulder, "There's always next time!" he added brightly.

She glared, he smiled.

She sighed, he rolled his eyes.

"Okay, first off, Vic and I aren't dating. Secondly, I have not, do not, and never will have feelings for you. I don't know why you have such a _hard_ time remembering those things seeing as we go over them _every single day_…a few times every day actually…" her voice went from angry to contemplative. "Maybe I should tattoo them on your hand or something…" she trailed off in her musing as they reached the math classroom. Kyle stepped forward and opened the door for her, as always.

"After you, mi'lady," he said as usual, with an exaggerated bow. She nodded, lifted her imaginary skirts, and entered the classroom. They then took their customary seats. She sat in the front row next to Victor Stone and he sat two empty desks away from her.

She always did enjoy talking to him, she mused as she pulled out her math book. Maybe Kyle wasn't so bad after all…

* * *

Twenty minutes later, she had decided that he definitely wasn't as bad as she had previously decided.

He was, most definitely, worse.

She didn't even know how he could manage to be so irritating in such a short period of time. They hadn't even finished going over the last night's homework assignment yet, and she was already losing her patience with him, something that usually didn't happen for another 25 minutes into the class period.

Victor, sensing her frustration, leaned over. "Calm down," he whispered. "He's just trying to bother you because that's how he entertains himself."

"Am I really that entertaining when I'm irritated?" she had hissed back, before groaning and hiding her face in her arms when Vic failed to reply, looking embarrassed.

_Thursdays_, she thought bitterly, thinking back to her list. _Thursdays bother me_. She was always more irritable on Thursdays. It was so close to the weekend, but there was still a long ways to go. It meant she had put up with school for three long days, and there were still two more to go. And her dad always worked late on Thursdays, they seemed to be a very active day for gangs. _Probably because they feel the same way I do_, she thought. It didn't seem fair to her that other kids her own age, _criminals_ her own age, had the power to keep her father from her. She was proud of him for trying to do so much, and for accomplishing so much, but she wished he could do all that and still be able to come home and have dinner with her at a normal time, and then stay home.

"Miss Gordon." A voice startled her as she was simultaneously poked in the ribs. "Miss Gordon, you may want to wake up for this, it may be a tad difficult to do your homework tonight if you do not."

"M'not asleep," she protested as she rubbed her eyes. She looked up at Mr. Robinson, who was smiling in amusement, and stated with an absolute finality- "I hate Thursdays."

"Don't we all," he agreed.

* * *

"But seriously Babs, how do you do it?" Vic asked as they say down at a lunch table outside with other guys and girls who had opted out of the gangs for various reasons, most of the sports. Though he sometimes joined them, Kyle wasn't there.

"How does she do what?" asked Stan, one of Vic's football teammates.

"Sleep without sleeping," was the response.

The table fell silent as everyone simply stared at Victor.

Babs let a few seconds of stunned silence pass before leaning into the center of the circular table, causing everyone's stares to change targets. In a hushed, conspiratorial tone, she whispered, "Exactly."

Rick, who played both basketball and baseball, looked over at Victor as though he was concerned for his friend's health. "Are you sure you're feeling alright, Stone?"

Babs shook her head slowly; Stone punched her in the arm.

"I want to know how you do it," he said, shaking a finger at her. "Now tell me, or I'll have you, I don't know, burned at the stake or something."

"They don't do that anymore," she said, laughing. "I checked."

"Checked what?" asked Rich, sitting down between Gwen, a volleyball player, and Babs.

Before Barbara or Victor could respond, Gwen, on Rich's other side, leaned over. "Vic thinks Babs is a witch, because apparently she can "sleep without sleeping" I have no idea how that is even possible, but you know Vic."

"And Babs," added Rich, laughing at his friends.

"And Babs," agreed Gwen, also laughing. "Sometimes I wonder how they do it," she added, more sober.

"Do what?"

"This." She gestured toward the two, still pretending to fight with each other, but beginning to laugh. "How do they manage to stay so cheerful all the time? I mean, our city is-"

She was cut off as a cell phone began to ring. Rich thought he saw Barbara's smile falter for a moment as she realized it was her phone playing "Takin' Care of Business" but it was back after such a short moment he couldn't be sure.

"Hi Dad!" she chirped into the phone. "No, its fine, I'm at lunch…oh…" Her grin slowly faded. "No, it's fine, I understand…Dad, really…I was already going to Rich's after school, remember? …no, I'm sure he won't mind…okay…yes, I'm sure…I'll see you later? Go get 'em Dad! ...okay, I love you, too."

She sighed lightly as she snapped her phone shut, slumping slightly before turning to Rich, nearly as cheerful as she had been before.

"Do you think Alfred will mind cooking for one more?" she asked him

"Of course not! He pretty much already thinks of you as another one of his charges anyways. Do you want to stay for dinner too, Vic?"

"Sure man. I was going to see if I could toss some ideas around with that uncle, or what ever he is of yours, anyways. I'll be right back," he said, leaving to call his father and make sure it was alright.

"Thanks for letting us stay," Babs said to Rich. "I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem, really," he insisted. "Things are always more fun when there are more of us."

"Yeah…" She trailed off as she turned to Vic who was sitting back down at the table. "We chill?" she asked.

Vic grimaced. "I don't know why you ever started saying that, and if you never say it again it will be too soon. But yes, we are."

Barbara smiled at him. "Chill."  
Vic dropped his head to his hands and groaned. Richard awkwardly leaned over Babs to pat him on the back.

"Don't worry, man," he said. "Someday she'll grow out of it. Someday. I hope."

Babs put a hand on him as well. "Yeah, Vic. You shouldn't be too worried." A wicked gleam came into her eyes that went unnoticed only by Victor, his head still buried in his hands.

"Stay chill."

"Babs!"

She jumped up and started running seconds before he did, the previous light-heartedness restored as those sitting at the table began laughing and chatting once more.

After a lap around the courtyard, the two returned to their seats, flushed and smiling.

"Wow Vic," said Babs as she sat down. "That was way unchill."

Chaos ensued.

End Chapter 1

* * *

I'm sorry I made you all wait so long for this! Hopefully updates will be coming a lot more often, but right now I can't make any promises. So, tell me what you liked and what you didn't, please! Have a great rest of the week!


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